


Sentiment

by neverminetohold



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Extended Scene, Friendship, Gen, Manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-04-27 20:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14433345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverminetohold/pseuds/neverminetohold
Summary: Kylo Ren was well aware that sentiment was a double-edged sword. He resented it when the blade slipped and cut him, but relished wielding it himself...





	Sentiment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [boudour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boudour/gifts).



The body of Lor San Tekka hit the ground with a soft thud. A cloud of dust and the stench of cauterized flesh rose into the hot desert air. The dark current of fear that surrounded the disarmed villagers gained an edge of anger and hate, though in many minds raw despair began to take root.

Kylo Ren deactivated his lightsaber and returned it to his belt. A sudden ripple within the Force was his only warning. He reached out towards the blaster bolt aimed at him and the one who had pulled the trigger, freezing both in place.

He recognized the man even before the two stormtroopers had forced him to kneel in front of him. Poe Dameron. The best pilot in the Resistance - or so he had liked to claim with the grin of a dashing rogue. Ben Solo's only childhood friend. He remembered those days well. The loneliness of absent parents and his hopeless crush on the older man. That complicated things... or would play into his hands.

"So, who talks first? You talk first? I talk first?" Poe asked, never one to stay silent in the face of overwhelming odds.

Kylo crouched so that their eyes were level and focused on Poe's signature within the Force. That bright flame of devotion to his cause, dimmed by a sense of failure, yet kept alive by hope. Most of his memories were hidden by the overall turmoil, but one of a leather pouch changing hands hovered close to the surface of Poe's mind.

Kylo smiled behind his mask, pleased that his search was nearing its end. "The old man gave it to you."

"It's just very hard to understand you with all the apparat-"

"Search him," Kylo said and stood.

One stormtrooper kept the pilot restrained, the other patted Poe down with brisk efficiency that left no room for error. "Nothing, sir."

Kylo glanced at the damaged X-wing that had been set down on the outskirts of Tuanul. Common sense dictated that where there was a pilot, there was an astromech, though most people dismissed droids as beneath their notice. No doubt Poe had hoped that the First Order would make the same mistake.

"Put him on board."

Captain Phasma returned to his side, apparently satisfied with the secure perimeter her men had established. She struck an imposing figure, with her height and armor, that reflected the fire. What a pity that General Hux adamantly refused to heed his warnings that she was loyal only to herself. For all the power it lent him there were times when Kylo loathed the insights the Force provided. How many other three-year-olds had had to grapple with the fact that their own parents feared them, even while they smiled and told them 'I love you'?

"Sir, the villagers?"

Kylo hesitated. Even though he had renounced them, Leia Organa's foolish ideals and his Jedi training were too ingrained not to rear their heads in moments like these. But his duty was to the First Order and his Master - at least until he could set his own plans into motion. Showing these people mercy would only serve to strengthen the ranks of the Resistance.

"Kill them all."

Phasma inclined her head and addressed her men. "On my command..."

"Please, no!" Poe shouted over his shoulder, digging in his heels and struggling against his captors as they led him up the ramp and into the shuttle.

Some of the villagers cried or pleaded, the lips of others moved in silent prayer, friends and families hugged and kissed. Unmoved by the display, the stormtroopers readied their blasters and took aim.

"Fire!"

A hail of shots ripped through the helpless villagers but Kylo's attention wasn't fixed on the punitive measure. One trooper, a bloody hand print smeared across his helmet, stood with his blaster raised, pretending with all his might that he was part of the killing, though he never pulled the trigger, and the very thought made him sick.

Hux would be thrilled. The general never tired of bragging that his soldiers were 'exceptionally trained and programmed from birth.' Maybe Kylo should allow things to run their course... Then again, a coward intent on saving his own skin could do a lot of damage, especially when on board the same Star Destroyer as a certain Resistance pilot.

"Captain Phasma."

"Sir?"

"FN-2187 failed to perform his duty. Have him detained until I return to the _Finalizer_ and can personally evaluate him," Kylo said.

"Sir, a malfunction -"

"No," Kylo cut her off, not in the mood for her token protest. Going through the motions to cultivate an image was hardly the same as genuine concern for the men under one's command. "You have your orders."

Kylo turned his back on her and made his way towards the edge of the village, where the sea of Jakku's dunes spread towards the horizon in endless waves. Passing by the blaster bolt that still sizzled in mid-air he sent it skyward with a casual gesture.

Acrid smoke enveloped him as he left the last of Tuanul's primitive huts behind. It billowed in black columns from the burning T-70, together with embers and sparks from the thrusters. His mask filtered out the worst of the smell, just as the lenses amplified the residual light to enhance his night vision. His eyes scanned the sand at his feet. The track of what looked like a rolling ball had been partially covered by the gentle breeze that tugged at his robe, but was still easy enough to spot.

A spherical design like this meant a BB unit. Perhaps this one would even turn out to have a orange-and-white paint job plus some unique personality subroutines. Kylo followed the stripe of disturbed sand into the open desert.

XXX

Rapid beeping and whistling reached his ears from beyond the rise of the dune. Kylo smiled behind his mask, amused by the droid's cheek, though whatever creature had captured it seemed less impressed with the scathing flood of Binary.

The Western Reaches stretched before him. Here, the fine sand gave way to the salt flats that Jakku was known for. A former battle ground, the plains were littered with the wreckage of crashed starships. The sun had risen two hours ago, a malignant disk the color of tarnished gold.

In the valley below, a gray-skinned Teedo was clinging to the back of a bucking and bellowing luggabeast, too busy trying to calm his mount to notice the new arrival. The droid - BB-8, just as Kylo had hoped - was stubbornly trying to tear straight through a net that was bulging with engine parts and other scrap metal.

He started down the dune, using the shifting ground to slide a few meters at a time. As amusing as that one-sided tug-of-war was, he couldn't very well allow that scavenger to add BB-8 to his daily haul and sell him at Niima Outpost.

Kylo weighed his options. He could prize the map from BB-8's destroyed frame or risk tricking him. The droid would be a valuable asset - after he had been wiped and reprogrammed. His Master's teachings should inform his decision, not sentiment. But the simple truth was that he had always been fond of the astromech. Embracing his momentary weakness, Kylo made his choice.

BB-8's beeping gained a panicked edge when he discovered that he was wrapped up so tight that he couldn't open any of his tool-filled compartments to make good on his threats of bodily harm. Having his mount back under control and both hands free, the Teedo shouted in triumph and grabbed his Ion spear. Its tip sparking with electricity, he jabbed it at the net, aiming for the droid's dome-shaped head.

Kylo concentrated on the object through the Force and pulled. The crude weapon wrenched itself free of the Teedo's hold and soared through the air, straight into his outstretched hand. Finally spotting him, both BB-8 and the alien froze in place.

"Each of us has something that belongs to the other," Kylo said, stalking closer. "That sounds like a fair trade, yes?"

His presence alone was sufficient to convince the startled Teedo. He bent low in his saddle and began to fumble with the knots and ropes that secured the net. It fell slack, spilling scavenged starship parts. BB-8 whistled in relief and made a beeline for freedom. Kylo tossed the spear to the Teedo who caught it and gave the luggabeast a kick with both heels, coaxing it into a lumbering trot.

Before Kylo could say anything, BB-8 beeped a terse 'thank you' in his general direction - and tried to roll right after the Teedo.

"Is that how you treat an old friend?" Kylo asked and removed his helmet. "Do you remember how we painted Black One pink?"

BB-8 stopped and his head swiveled around. Emitting a dubious beep, the droid rolled closer, inch by inch, like a skittish animal.

"It's really me."

BB-8 rushed forward with the electronic equivalent of a happy shout and a flurry of queries. Giving Kylo no chance to get a word in edgewise, BB-8 offered his own theory of what had happened. It revolved around undercover work, the other Padawan going into hiding with Master Skywalker, faking the destruction of the temple... All in an effort to eliminate the First Oder threat while their forces were concentrated on hunting the Resistance. - Plus the aside that Black One had been a pain in the droid's aft ever since they had pulled that stunt, but the memory file of Poe's reaction made it _so_ worth it.

"You're too smart for your own good, BB-8," Kylo said in a carefully neutral tone. He listened to another string of Binary. "Keep the map. No, what I want you to do is pretend to be my prisoner. That way I can get you on board the _Finalizer_."

BB-8 bumped into his legs with a rude noise. "I can't do anything that would draw attention to my activities. General Hux and Captain Phasma are suspicious of me. I had no choice but to arrest Poe. And I can't be involved in his escape. It's up to you."

BB-8 hooted and twirled, clearly thrilled by the idea of coming to Poe's rescue. He rolled ahead at a brisk pace, back into the direction of Tuanul. Kylo trailed after him, almost disappointed that it had been this easy. But perhaps that was only to be expected. Using 'Ben Solo' to his advantage was the logical choice, especially when it suited his purpose. The true challenge lay in killing the remnants of his past.

Poe Dameron. Han Solo. Luke Skywalker. And last...

"Tell me, how is my mother?"

 


End file.
